


You're a Brute

by StrictlyFromCorn (orphan_account)



Category: 20th Century CE RPF, Composers - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1740683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/StrictlyFromCorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1925, a few days after Kay Swift meets George Gershwin for the first time, she rushes to his apartment, deciding that she simply has to see him again before he leaves for Europe. She hates to admit it, but she's in love with him, despite the fact that she's married to someone else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're a Brute

**Author's Note:**

> I can't help it, but gosh, I just love the George/Kay ship so much! I love how George only stuck with her for any length of time, and it really shows that their relationship was so much deeper than the superficial flings he had with countless other girls. So, here's something nice and fluffy (and maybe sensual).  
> And when you get to the part where the lyrics of Frank Sinatra's "The Best Is Yet To Come" are written, please, please, I urge you to play that song while reading this. It REALLY adds to the mood, and it was the inspiration for this fanfic in general.

_“Well, I’ve got to go to Europe now.”_

The composer’s parting words had stuck with her for the past three days, and Kay couldn’t get him off her mind. She couldn’t stop thinking about how devilishly handsome he was, or the immeasurable amount of talent contained within him. Or, that devastating smile - or more often, smirk, since he evidently thought of everyone at the dinner party as idiots.

Besides Kay, of course. All through the night, she could’ve sworn his dark gaze kept wandering to her, and when it was time to serve dinner, he had offered to help her out. Everyone commented about how rare it was for George Gershwin to offer to help, considering that he was always at the piano. He looked as if he wanted to talk to her, but she kept getting distracted by other silly guests who lied about how much they liked the party. (Honestly, Kay’s husband, Jimmy Warburg, the banker, was the only reason why they were there.)

To the banker’s wife, though, George was a mysterious, powerful force. He had so much passion for music that everyone in the room could feel it, and he had the skills to back it up. The composer captured Kay’s imagination at once, and after most of the guests had gone, she finally got the chance to watch him when he was most at home hammering out variations of his own compositions at the baby grand perched in the corner of the living room. Kay stood next to George as he worked magic at the ivories - and neither of them said a word to each other until he finished playing “Idle Dreams”.

“Now what shall I play next, Mrs. Warburg?” He looked up at her with a polite smile, not having given the slightest indication before that he was aware of her presence. Kay was startled at being addressed so suddenly - causing her to blink a few times and swallow as his dark gaze was turned on her.

“Uh… how about… how about that song you composed a while ago? Isn’t it called “Do It Again”?” She suggested with a half-smile, although, honestly, she wasn’t that familiar with the world of popular music. Ragtime was strange to her - she’d been trained in a conservatory, and had written a fugue a week - but _jazz_? Not really, and certainly not the kind of jazz that George was so enthusiastic about. But when he played his own compositions at the piano, he made them sound so wonderful and magical to the girl that had been raised in the hoity-toity music halls of New York and hadn’t known anything else.

“Pardon me, Mrs. Warburg, but, uh, may I make an observation?” George didn’t take his eyes off of her as he started to play “Do it Again”, but in a calmer, softer tone that was also in waltz time.

“Call me Kay. And yes, Mr. Gershwin, you may.” Kay hastily added, not particularly fond of the formalities that sprung up between the two of them. She didn’t want to distance herself from this charming magician.

“In that case, call me George. And, uh, Kay… I’d like to comment that you’re the only person in this room that seems to understand music.” He meant that sincerely - to him, the false comments and exaggerated praises of the partygoers, who couldn’t tell allegro from diminuendo, meant nothing. But the wonder of the pretty young composer was all the world to him at that moment. “I heard you used to compose music. What of it?”

“I did compose music, George, but nothing like yours. I mean… Tin Pan Alley is almost alien to me, except the tunes of Irving Berlin. Oh, I love Mr. Berlin’s music. I’m afraid I was rather a boring sort - fugues and all of that.” Kay replied shyly, not having expected the conversation to turn to her own compositions. “...But I think your music is wonderful too. I have a confession to make. I was at the Carnegie Hall premiere of Rhapsody in Blue. I saw you at the piano, working wonders.” She had gone to the premiere quite against Jimmy’s will - he wanted to go out for dinner that night - but she was more than glad she did. “I think it’s divine.”

“Thanks.” George nodded, the first genuine smile appearing on his face that night. Kay knew it was heartfelt, with the way the corners of his mouth turned up to reveal his even white teeth, and the creases at his dark eyes. Oh, he was _so_ handsome. “I’m very glad you like it, Kay.” He said her name slowly, as if it were used to describe some mythical substance. To him, she was just as good as an angel.

“I could listen to your music all night, George.” Kay decided to make a move and sat down on the piano bench next to him, which was large enough to accommodate three people. “Will you play it for me?”

“And I could play all night, just for the pleasure of your company. I’d dance, too… but the trouble is, I can’t do both at the same time. But maybe some other night, if you so wish.”

Yes – she so wished.

 

* * *

 

“Does Mr. George Gershwin stay here?” Before he left, he had given Kay the address of the apartment he stayed in, and she knew that she _had_ to see him before he departed for Europe. George was on her mind, under her skin - and there was nothing else she could do about it.

“Yes. On the third floor.” The lady receptionist answered, a small smirk on her face. She had gotten so used to girls calling for George - and to him bringing back all sorts of dames late at night, that Kay was just “another one of them” to her. Sometimes she and the janitor took bets as to how long each girl would last with George. The longest so far had been one week.

“Thanks. No need to call ahead, he’ll be expecting me.” With that, Kay hastily rushed for the elevator, having no time at all to waste. Truth of the matter was, she’d snuck off without telling Jimmy, and she wanted to get back home before he did and avoid all the awkward questioning. Besides, at nine o’clock, he’d probably be getting home at any minute.

 “Yeah, he’ll be expectin’ ya, all right.” The receptionist muttered under her breath as she leaned her elbow on the counter, wondering how long _she’d_ last.

 

* * *

 

 

_Out of the tree of life I just picked me a plum,_

_You came along and everything's startin' to hum,_

_Still, it's a real good bet, the best is yet to come._

 

“Come in, and don’t forget to lock the door after yourself!” George yelled as he heard somebody knock on the door. He was sitting on top of his bed - a queen-sized one, for obvious reasons - and eating a plum, instead of composing for the various obligations he had at the time. Honestly, it was one of those “I can’t be bothered now” nights.

“I hope you don’t mind my coming here so suddenly.” He looked up suddenly at Kay’s familiar voice. “You see… I just had to see you before you departed for Europe for three or so months.” She quietly shut the front door behind her and nervously made her way into the messy apartment, which looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages. Typical of George, actually.

“Kay!” He grinned and got off his bed, taking another bite from the plum. “Well, no, I don’t mind. It’s just that I didn’t expect to see ya tonight. If I had known, I would have cleaned up a little. And maybe… been a little more presentable.” With that, George quickly adjusted his striped necktie and ran a hand through his messy brown hair. “Why, was there something urgent you had to tell me?” He was starting to get an idea of what Kay wanted, though, although he didn’t want to jump to all sorts of conclusions.

“Oh, it’s really silly of me to come all the way here on an impulse.” She burst out suddenly, sitting down on the couch. “I’m sorry.” Kay didn’t expect the effect of seeing George again. She felt as if her legs were jelly - and she was completely tongue-tied in his presence.

“What, you’re sorry to see me?” George asked teasingly as he continued to eat the plum, even though he knew for a fact that it wasn’t what Kay meant. He casually took a seat next to her on the couch as well - perhaps a little closer than she had expected. But on the other hand, Kay didn’t mind the intimate physical contact, either.

“No, I- I-...” She found herself staring right at George’s lips. _Kiss me. Kiss me, oh my God, kiss me._ The thoughts were quickly banished from Kay’s mind, though, when she reminded herself that she was a married woman. But it was almost as if the love had fallen out of her marriage to Jimmy the moment she saw George. Then again, she knew his reputation as a notorious womanizer - and she didn’t know if her marriage was worth breaking up over him, considering that he might not even stay.

“You want me to kiss you.” He drew his lips back in a smirk, knowing exactly where that was going. “Most girls are more forward about it, but you’re not like most girls, Kay.” George’s tone was completely different all of a sudden. It wasn’t the polite, casual tone that he had adopted earlier. No, the better term this time was _sultry_. He was a charmer in every sense of the word, and Kay was completely unprepared to face his attractiveness in full force. If she had any less self-control, she would have thrown herself in his arms and promised George _anything_ he wanted.

“Y-yes… I mean- uh, no. I’m… I’m married, but you, I-” She stumbled over her words, staring into his smouldering brown gaze. “The hell with my marriage. I’m yours, George. I mean it. I’m _yours_.” Kay finally murmured, her voice trembling with desire for him. Nothing Jimmy had ever done in their seven years of marriage could come close to what she felt for the composer in front of her in that instant. The man who could work magic in front of the piano, but at the same time, who had also caused so many relationships to come to an end - she could see why girls threw away their whole lives for a night with him. George was like a Pied Piper of sorts to women, and Kay had just succumbed to his infinite charms as she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her.

“Oh, Kay…” He found himself drawn nearer and nearer to her lips, but the composer stopped himself in time. Normally, he wouldn’t care if the girl involved was married, but for some reason, he didn’t feel like he could kiss Kay in that situation. George believed that she was in love with him, but the problem was that _he_ felt a very strong attraction to her as well. Something a lot stronger than the countless one-night stands with so many other women. “No.”

“What?” Her eyes flew open at the word, and she resisted the urge to scream out loud in frustration. George was _this_ close. Why in the name of all that was gracious did he stop?

“Not yet, Kay.” A satisfied smirk crossed his face at her infinite confusion. “The best is yet to come.”

 

_Best is yet to come and babe, won't that be fine?_

_You think you've seen the sun, but you ain't seen it shine,_

_Wait till the warm up's underway,_

_Wait till our lips have met._

_And wait till you see that sunshine day,_

_You ain't seen nothin' yet!_

 

“You think I’m attractive? You think I’m worth throwing away seven years’ worth of a respectable marriage? We’ve only known each other for… about a night.” Oh, yeah, _he_ was one to talk. “It’s… flattering, but you’ve barely even given me the chance to tell you about myself. I mean, deciding to… cheat is a big thing. Am I worth it?”

“Listen to me, George. I’m in love with you. There’s no way around it. I _love_ you from the bottom of my heart and I don’t know what the hell you did to me in that one night - but I love you more than I could ever love Jimmy. You call it a “respectable” marriage? I call it a sham. He’s always out of town on business trips, and I always have to take care of the kids. He’s not a responsible father at all. I don’t even know what possessed me to marry him.” Kay hated being desperate, but that was exactly what she was at that moment. She wanted nothing more to feel his lips against hers.

“What is it that you want in life, Kay?” George had to resist adding “ _you think I will be?_ ” after Kay’s complaints about Jimmy being a bad father. “Besides me… and I’m not so sure about that part, either.”

“I… I don’t know. I’m not happy with what he has given me. I want music. I was truly satisfied when I was writing music, and you know that feeling, don’t you, George? He doesn’t understand, but you’re a composer too, and… I really don’t know. I guess you could say I want someone… someone to watch over me.”

“You want glamor? You want success? You want fame? I’ll give it to you. You think you haven’t been given the chance to write music, don’t you? Well, write music with me.” George rattled off all those promises in an instant - but whether he was going to keep them was another matter entirely. “But not yet, Kay. Not yet. We’ve got to take it easy.” A small part of him was screaming to stop - to just go away and forget about her. But this pretty gambine with a devastatingly nice figure had him under her charms, for some mixed-up reason or the other.

“I can’t wait any longer, George.” Kay didn’t care that she sounded needy, because she wanted nothing more badly than for him to just kiss her in that instant. “I can’t take it easy. You’re going to sail for Europe, and I’m going to be stuck here in New York, thinking about you, every single day. Don’t be this cruel to me.” It occurred to her that she had never actually known how it was like to yearn for someone - to think about them all the time, and to lie awake at night and think some more and live in torment.

“You’ve waited seven years. I should say three months isn’t that long.” George had no idea how much misery he gave girls by mercilessly flirting and teasing - and then probably never seeing them again. He never stopped to think about that; he simply moved on to the next pretty girl he saw. “Oh, won’t it be fine, Kay? You’ve seen Jimmy’s way of making love, but you think it’s all there is out there. Trust me, it’s now my goal to change it. One of these nights, I’m going to _blow your mind_.” The composer’s tone was intentionally deep and seductive.

“Why not tonight? Please, George, please…” She had resorted to begging by that point, but she knew George was very close to changing his mind. Kay could just close her eyes and imagine him carrying her off to the bedroom in an instant.

“There are a few things that you’ve got to understand. You’re married.” It wasn’t as if her marital status was a barrier to their relationship - George frankly could care less if the girl was married or not. It was just a little more troublesome to deal with the angry husband later on, but he never let that stop him. He was simply throwing it out as an excuse - and frankly, he enjoyed seeing her flail like that.

“You’re a brute.” Kay murmured very softly after a long silence. “You’re a brute, George Gershwin - did you know that?”

 

_The best is yet to come and babe, won't it be fine?_

_Best is yet to come, come the day you're mine,_

_Come the day you're mine._

_I'm gonna teach you to fly,_

_We've only tasted the wine,_

_We're gonna drain the cup dry!_

 

“I’ve been called my fair share of names.” George responded thoughtfully - although from just _whom_ , he wouldn’t say. “But to be called a brute by a pretty girl like you…” He trailed off as he ran his hand over Kay’s cheek, causing her skin to tingle. “Ah, well, everyone is entitled to their own opinion.” He knew he was a brute - the way he was teasing her made her heart want to explode. The composer was aware that he had that effect on girls, and he found it rather amusing sometimes.

“I should leave. I should just leave and forget all of this ever happened.” In the back of her mind, though, Kay knew it wasn’t going to happen. She couldn’t peel herself away from George, no matter what, and a small part of her was starting to resent that fact.

“But you won’t.” His overconfidence could be so suffocating and annoying - and it sure didn’t help that he was right. “Don’t worry about it, Kay. I’ll come back from Europe sooner than you know it - perhaps a little more defiled than before I left, though. I believe there’s an old saying - good things come to those who wait.” George was still heart-stoppingly close to her face, and when he spoke, his breath stirred her brown hair.

“You don’t believe that I’m yours?” Kay asked softly, gripping the armrest of the sofa to stop herself from shaking violently. No other man had ever had that effect on her, and she believed there wasn’t going to be another one, either.

“You made that decision in an awful haste, didn’t you?” The composer inquired with a slight shake of his head. “Give it a few months. If you’re still unhappy with your husband… then, I’m all yours, too. I just don’t want you to do something you may regret later.” George could hardly believe those words left his mouth, though - he was so obviously looking out for Kay, when honestly, he could’ve had her in bed that moment and not given her married life a second thought. After all, he had done that for so many other girls before, but as mentioned before, the girl sitting in front of him was so much more than that, already.

“I guess you’re right, George.” Kay finally conceded with a huge sigh. She didn’t know what kind of magic the composer had cast on her - to make her want to throw her entire future away for one night, but she was glad that he had made her see sense in time, too. “But do you promise - if I wait, and I decide I still want you more than I want Jimmy, you’ll…”

“Whatever you want me to do.” George nodded, still surprised at what he was saying.

 

_Wait till your charms are ripe for these arms to surround,_

_You think you've flown before, but baby, you ain't left the ground._

_Wait till you're locked in my embrace,_

_Wait till I draw you near,_

_Wait till you see that sunshine place,_

_Ain't nothin' like it here!_

 

“Before you go, Kay, tell me something.” The composer burst out all of a sudden, a question suddenly entering his mind. “I’m curious. What made you want to choose… me, over Jimmy?” If there was one thing that couldn’t be denied about George, it was that he was always looking for someone to stroke his ego, and this situation was no exception.

“I… shouldn’t say this, but I think you’re far more handsome than him. You’re a musician, like me, and I’ve already fallen in love with your music. And as a person, I think you’re devastatingly charming.” Kay stared at the ground, resisting the urge to stare dreamily at his handsome face. She wanted to cling on to whatever shreds of dignity she had left - after begging him, and show that she would be all right with waiting for three months.

“When I come back, and if you still love me, and I… still love you, and this isn’t just a one-night infatuation, we’ll do lots of things. Just wait. I’ve got plenty in store for the two of us.” George wasn’t the kind of person to be tied down to a long-term romantic relationship, and part of him _knew_ he shouldn’t have been making those promises to Kay, but the other half of him couldn’t resist it.

“Don’t you fall in love with every girl for the one night you’re with her, and then forget about her? I know you’re that kind of man; I’ve heard so many stories about you. You’re a magician, George, and not just with the piano. But I was willing to throw my whole domestic life away… for you.” Kay was aware that she probably wasn’t the first married woman with kids to have met George - and she was most definitely not going to be the last one, but she felt the need to remind him how much she was willing to sacrifice for him.

“You’re a magician, too, Kay. I know that if I kiss you now, my whole trip to Paris will be ruined. When I kiss another girl, I’ll be comparing the taste of her lips to yours. When I hold her, I’ll be thinking of you instead. I was never like this with any other girl, but you’ve managed to do something to me, too. Having someone to compare girls with is a deadly thing for a man like me.” A small smile passed over his face at the conjectures he was making. “But I think you’re worth it. Maybe this separation for three months will be beneficial to both parties.”

“What did you say just now - ‘the best is yet to come’?”

 

_The best is yet to come and babe, won't it be fine?_

_The best is yet to come, come the day you're mine,_

_Come the day you're mine,_

_And you're gonna be mine…_

 

“How does Jimmy say goodbye to you? Like this?” George rose from his seat and held out his hand for Kay to shake in a very businesslike manner, obviously poking fun at her husband’s profession as a banker. “Thank you, Miss Swift, it has been a very productive meeting.” The contempt for the man showed in the composer’s tone, but instead of offending Kay, she laughed.

“Thank you, Mr. Gershwin, this has been a pleasure.” She extended her hand in response and shook his surprisingly large one, all calloused from playing the piano for so long. Without the slightest bit of warning, though, George leaned over and planted a kiss on Kay’s hand, just as a true gentleman would.

“Who says chivalry is dead?” The expression on her face was priceless when he looked up from the kiss. “I hope you don’t mind, Kay.” She looked almost as if she was emerging from a dream - like the kiss was something completely otherworldly and magical. It probably was for Kay, though.

“I- I… no, of course I don’t… mind.” She stammered, not having expected to feel his warm lips against the skin of her hand instead of against her own. At the same time, though, Kay knew that George _would_ do such a thing, and she should’ve been on her guard. “I guess I should go, now, before Jimmy gets back home.”

“I’ll be seeing you, then.” The composer was satisfied with himself for having come out with the upper hand once again. Without a word, he picked up the plum from the table and took another bite out of it, before sitting down on the couch. “Oh, and Kay-”

“Yes?” She had been delaying going out of the room as much as possible, in the hopes that George would say something else. She still had the tiniest of hopes that he’d change his mind and kiss her anyway - frankly, the desperation for him to get intimate with her was starting to drive her crazy.

“Please lock the door after you leave.” He had to resist laughing out loud at the excitement in her tone.

_You brute!_ Kay screamed inwardly as she deliberately slammed the door of the apartment room. _George Gershwin, you brute!_


End file.
